


You Should Most Definitely Not Remain Silent

by zahrawrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Biphobia, Bisexual Castiel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Claire, Kissing, Lawyer Dean, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zahrawrites/pseuds/zahrawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU from Tumblr: </p><p>i’m the lawyer helping you get custody of your daughter and oops you’re all kinds of adorable with her and also I think she’s growing attached to me, is that good or bad?</p><p>The legal information provided in this fic is general knowledge, fiction, or taken from this webpage: http://www.wikihow.com/File-for-Full-Custody and should NOT be taken to be accurate.</p><p>I know the title is really bad, I promise I'll change it when I come up with a better one. If you've got any ideas, let me know. </p><p>As usual, constructive criticism and comments are always welcome.</p><p>Enjoy x</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Should Most Definitely Not Remain Silent

"Daddy!" shouts a high-pitched voice.

Dean looks up from reading his emails on his phone to see the little blonde girl – eight years old according to her father – run to the man standing beside him. Cas’ smile is inevitable.

"Hey bug!" he replies, lifting her into his arms, smile wide.

She looks at Dean.

"Hi, Dean!" she waves excitedly.

If this wasn’t his client’s kid, he would’ve reached out and ruffled her hair like how he used to do with Sam.

But he can’t.

"Hey kiddo." He simply replies with a kind smile.

"Where’s your mom?" Cas asks, redirecting her attention.

"She’s talking to the lawyer man." Claire says.

His smile falters for a moment but not long enough for his daughter to notice. He sits on the bench outside Court Room 4, and puts her in his lap.

"How was school today, sweetheart?" he asks, genuinely interested. He smoothes down her purple dress and she grimaces a little at the pressure on her chest. Cas doesn’t notice but Dean does. She keeps talking ecstatically about how Lisa kissed Jason on the cheek, so the boy grabbed her face and kissed her on the lips, and then got suspended for it.

Cas’ mouth drops open in dramatic surprise, then he narrows his eyes playfully. "Did _you_ want to kiss Jason?"

She giggles, and it sounds out of place in a courthouse.

"Or Lisa?" Cas adds, and she giggles louder. Some of the other attorneys look their way and Dean stares right back, dares them to say anything.

Cas laughs in response to her giggles and Dean has to fight the smile that appears on his face because of it.

" _Claire_." The little girl startles at the stern voice and hops out of her father’s lap obediently and walks to her mother, but not before her mother’s lawyer – Alastair Silverman – runs a hand over the little girl’s head in a manner that is supposed to be comforting.

Dean bristles against the motion.  

He locks his phone and slips it in his inside suit jacket pocket, and readjusts his hold on his briefcase as Castiel stands beside him.

"Mr Silverman." He grits, because he has manners… and because it’s more socially acceptable than running him down with Baby.

"Mr… Winchester." Alastair says back after looking him up and down in a way that’s supposed to make him feel like he doesn’t belong here.

"What did I tell you?" Amelia tugs harshly on the girl’s arm and pulls her to her side.

"Sorry, mommy." Claire replies and looks down at her shoes.

"Damn right you’ll be sorry." Amelia says in a hushed voice, but Dean hears and his jaw clenches.

Alastair huffs a laugh in an attempt to distract from the situation. He looks at Castiel and Dean steps forward slightly.

"Given the situation, it would be prudent for you to give up now. We’ve already granted to you partial access-" he says like they’ve taken such mercy on Cas by doing so and Dean _despises_ the sound of his goddamn voice so he cuts in before the asshole can go further.

"-I would appreciate if you wouldn’t speak to my client directly. If you have anything _useful_ to say-"

"-Rumour has it, we’re to be assigned Judge Dorian _if_ we get a hearing." Alastair interjects and Dean’s face drops.

A man comes up to him and tells them that their petition has been successfully filed. Dean thanks him and looks down at Claire who’s staring up at him with wide eyes.

"We’ll see you later, kiddo."

He turns back to look at his client.

"C’mon, Cas." He says and stalks out of the courtroom, down the steps and to his car. In the moment that he takes to pause and breathe, he hears Castiel come up behind him.

"Who’s Judge Dorian?"

Dean’s jaw clenches, as he tosses his briefcase into the backseat, and runs a hand through his hair. He turns to face Cas.

"He’s a fucking asshole."  

Castiel’s brows furrow. Dean looks around cautiously before he tells Cas to get in the car.

"He’s racist, sexist, ableist…" Dean explains when they’re both seated.

"Homophobic?" Castiel asks forlornly.  

"I think _bi_ phobic would be more appropriate for you but-

"It doesn't matter." Cas says. "When he finds out I’m anything but straight..." He trails off.

Dean turns his head to look at the other man. He’s looking down at his lap, fingers clasped together.

"…yeah."

Castiel nods, presses his lips together into a thin line and looks out the window – pointedly _not_ in Dean’s direction.

Dean thinks he wants to say something, so he waits.

"Do you think I should just…" Cas' voice is shaky. He presses the heels of his palms to his eyelids and exhales shakily.

Dean starts the car, and Castiel drops his hands into his lap.

 

-X-x-X-

 

"Would you like to come in for a bit?" Castiel asks, hand on the door handle. It sounds like a plea and Dean shouldn’t. It could unnecessarily complicate things.

But his blue eyes are wide with desperation and Dean’s a sucker.

"Okay."

Cas’ got a nice house. Nice enough for him to have his daughter live with him. The lawn’s big, with flowers growing against the white picket fence that’s on its periphery, and there’s a swing on the porch.

"What’s going to happen now?" Cas asks, leading them to the living room. Cas sits on the couch but Dean doesn’t. He ambles familiarly over to the mantelpiece over the fireplace and looks at the photos there.

"Well, we’ve just filed for a change in custody, and I don’t think anything a mediator says is gonna work with Amelia, so we’ll probably get a court hearing. We'll find out in the next few days... or week, depending on how busy they get." 

He admires a photo of Castiel and Claire sat on the swings in the park. They’re both laughing, looking at each other. Dean smiles.

"That was taken about a year and a half ago." Castiel’s murmur startles him slightly. He comes to stand just behind him, his body heat radiating through to Dean.

"You're really good with her, you know." Dean praises.

Castiel scoffs. "Her mother doesn't seem to think so."

"What happened between you two?" he asks quietly because it’s only them and they’re stood close together anyway so there's no need to be louder than that.

Castiel huffs a bitter laugh and meets Dean’s gaze. "She fucked the delivery guy."

Dean’s eyes widen but Cas’ expression doesn’t change – he probably expects that kind of response.

"Yeah." He turns away to drop onto the couch before listing on his fingers. "And our mailman, the gardener – oh! - _and_ our divorce attorney."

Dean doesn’t know what to say but his mouth drops open in surprise. He settles on, "Shit, man. I’m sorry."

Castiel shrugs. "I mean I understand that maybe she fell out of love of with me but she didn’t have to- you know…" he trails off sounding hurt. Dean comes to sit beside him.

"I’m sure I would’ve understood if she’d just _told_ me."

"Yeah, but-"

Castiel looks at him accusingly.

"-and I’m not defending her here, I swear." He adds and meets Cas’ gaze, which softens.

"How do you just… you know." Dean gestures with his hand.

"What?" Castiel asks.

They haven’t looked away.

Dean half shrugs. "How do you just tell a guy that… I'm not in love with you anymore?"

He didn't mean to word it like that.

But Castiel isn't affected.

He's just looking at Dean.

Scrutinizing.

It's quiet.

Comfortable.

Cas' thigh is pressed against his and its warm and grounding.  There's the hum of occasional traffic outside but nothing loud enough to break the bubble that's been created around them.

"Just like that." Castiel murmurs after a few long seconds, and Dean's sure that that's the second time Cas has glanced down at his mouth.

He clears his throat loudly and stands abruptly.

"I should- um." he thumbs towards the door. "I should get going."

"Of course." Castiel says. He sounds sort of reluctant but Dean doesn't let him dwell on it. It's not his job to make Castiel - _Mr Novak_ \- happy - its his job to get Mr Novak custody of his child.

"You have Claire tomorrow, right?"

Casti- _Mr Novak_ nods and follows him to the door.

"Okay, I'll drop by after-"

He pauses at the door.

"-to give you what you need..." He realises that that doesn't sound entirely professional. "you know-" he adds hastily. "-for Claire." He's sure the blood's rushed to his face embarrassingly and he should really leave.

 

-X-x-X-

 

Dean glances at the clock on his kitchen wall – it’s almost 9pm. If he doesn't hurry, he'll be late.

He's just about gathered all the relevant papers in his arms - his briefcase is already bursting - when his cell rings.

"Fuck." He curses under his breath, and digs through his suit jacket that’s slung over the back of a chair without dropping his papers.

"Winchester." He greets, tucking it between his shoulder and ear so he can sort out the rest of the documents.

"...Dean?" comes a quiet, shaky voice.

"Claire?"

He lets the papers fall to the table and presses the phone closer to his ear. Her breathing hitches and she sounds likes she's crying.

"Claire, is that you sweetheart?" He asks, screwing his eyes shut so he can hear what's going on in the background. The pet name falls naturally from his tongue but he hasn't got time to worry about that right now because she sounds like she's in trouble. 

"Dean, I'm so sc-scared." She says.

"It's okay, sweetie. Where are you?" He asks, and he's already walking to the door, grabbing his keys from the bowl.

There's no response so he asks again. "Claire?" His heart’s racing.

There's a small whimper.

"Claire, you've gotta talk to me. It's okay. Everything's okay. I'm here. Just tell me where you are."

"I'm... at Daddy's house."

He storms down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

"Okay, where exactly are you? Are you safe?"

"I'm in the closet." She whispers and there's a bang in the background, and he can imagine her flinch.

"Okay, you stay there, honey. I'm gonna come and get you. Stay on the phone. Everything's gonna be okay."

She sniffles.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

She doesn't say anything for a long few seconds and Dean thinks she's hung up. He pulls the phone back from his ear but the screen says they're still connected.

"Claire?" He repeats firmly, and what she says next makes his blood run cold.

" _Daddy's bleeding_."                                                                                                                                     

He lives about twenty minutes away from Cas but he gets there in ten. He notices Amelia’s car outside and something smashes inside the house. He sprints up the lawn and the front door’s already open and he can hear shouting.

"-so, you think you can do whatever you want?!"

"She’s my daughter!"

"You hurt her!" he hears Cas accuse.

He enters cautiously, following the sound of the arguing. The house is a mess; nothing like it was last night. There's papers everywhere, clothes, toys, smashed glass plates littering the hallways.

"Oh look-" Amelia snarks when she catches sight of him. "-your fucking knight in shining armour’s here." She snarls. There’s a half smashed bottle dangling dangerously from her fingertips.

He assesses the situation quickly.  There’s a wound on Cas' head and blood dripping all down the side of his face, and he looks pale and tired.

He looks at Amelia. Her gaze is glazed over and she’s swaying slightly which means she’s probably drunk. He can’t let her drive away in that state.

"I’m callin’ the cops." Dean phone’s already by his ear.

"No, wait! She’s leaving." Cas says, palms up pleadingly. He looks desperate. "Dean, _please_."

" _Dean, please_. _Dean, pleeease_." Amelia mimics, then scoffs in disgust.

The dial tone rings in his ear, changing his mind about the person at the other end of the call at the last minute.

"Silverman. You better get your ass to Novak’s house and come and get your _drunken_ client before I do something I’m gonna regret." He says and hangs up. He knows what he just said is a threat, and he knows that there could be consequences for that but there are more important things that matter right now. 

Amelia just rolls her eyes at his words. 

"Where’s Claire?" Dean asks Cas, pointedly ignoring Amelia.

Cas looks at him, dazed. "Cas, where’s your daughter?" he asks to try and bring some life to Cas' gaze. 

"Who cares about that annoying little fucking _brat_?" Amelia interjects.

"Claire?!" Dean calls up the stairs whilst keeping an eye on Cas and Amelia.

He hears a small patter of footsteps before a head pokes around the banister at the top of the stairs.

"Hi sweetheart. Are you okay?"

She looks at him blankly so he repeats himself, rephrasing the question.

"Are you hurt?"

"Dean." Cas says so he turns to face him.

Cas just shakes his head and he looks like he’s about to cry when a horn from outside distracts them

"Amelia?" Alastair’s voice asks.   

"In here." Dean calls.

He looks up the stairs at Claire. "Just stay there, okay?" He waits for a sign of understanding before going over to Alastair. The man’s trying to usher Amelia out the door before Dean can say anything, but Dean grabs him by the arm.

"You better get your shit together because we’re pressing charges _and_ applying for _full_ custody of Claire." He snarls because right now, he feels ready to fight the whole fucking world.

Alastair looks like he’s about to say something but decides against it.

 _Good decision_ Dean thinks. He practically shoves them out the door, and rests his forehead against the cool wood to take a calming breath.

Noise from the living room reminds him that Cas is still bleeding.

He finds Claire sat in Cas’ lap, both of them talking in hushed voices. He’s running a hand up and down her back comfortingly, and holding a ratty gray t-shirt to his head with the other. They look up at him, two pairs of wide, wet blue eyes and Dean exhales shakily.

"Get up. I’m gonna take you to the hosp-"

"No."

Dean clenches his jaw stubbornly.

"Cas, your head’s bleeding, you can’t just-"

"Dean, I said _no_." Castiel meets his gaze adamantly.  

"Fine." Dean resigns quicker than he should. "Where’s your…" he gestures to his own head and Cas understands.

"Second cupboard next to the kitchen sink." He replies.

Dean barely sits down beside Cas with the first aid kit before he has a lapful of Claire.

"Woah, easy kiddo." She puts her arms around his neck and squeezes tight, like if she lets go he’ll disappear.

One arm automatically wraps around her waist, the other hand strokes her hair comfortingly.

"It’s okay." He murmurs soothingly into her ear. "You’re okay. Your dad’s okay." He lists, meeting Cas’ gaze over her shoulder. He smiles at Dean at his mention, its small but full of gratitude.

"Please don’t make me go ba-back, _please_ -" Claire stutters and the smile drops as Cas averts his eyes shamefully.

He hushes her and pulls back. There are tears staining her cheeks, he wipes under her eyes tenderly and tucks a stray strand of blonde hair around the shell of her ear.

"Nothing’s ever gonna happen to you. I promise. Okay?"

She nods and clambers back into her father’s lap.

"I need to, um…" he starts, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

"What?" Cas asks as Claire tucks her face into the crook of her father’s neck and wraps an arm around his neck.

"I need to take pictures of the- the injuries." He nods towards Cas’ wound. "For the case - when it goes to court."

Castiel winces when he takes the material away from his head and angles it so Dean can take a picture. He pockets his phone when he's done. He knows he needs pictures of Claire’s supposed injuries, too, but right now, the little girl’s falling asleep and Cas looks too tired.

"Will you need Claire’s, too?" Castiel asks. His voice is small and ashamed and he’s not looking at Dean.

"Tomorrow."

Castiel sighs and tightens his hold around his daughter.

They don’t say anything as Dean cleans the blood, mostly just slight hissing and grimacing from Cas when he presses too hard and the quiet apologies that spill from Dean in return. Cas’ eyes are glazed over like he’s thinking. Then, he scoffs and closes his eyes.

"Am I a bad father?" he asks Dean quietly.

"No."

He looks to Dean. "Then, why did it take me _so long_ to notice?" he asks, in regard to Claire. His eyes are wide with frustration and anger.

Dean stops cleaning.

"I was gonna ask you about it yesterday ‘cause I noticed that she flinched slightly when you were smoothing down her dress in court."

It doesn’t help. Cas looks even more ashamed and helpless. He huffs a laugh bitterly. "My own lawyer noticed and I didn’t-" he breaks off.

Dean places a comforting palm on his knee. "Don’t beat yourself up about it too much." He tries. "The important thing is that she’s safe now." He nods towards Claire. Her eyes are closed and she’s gone slightly slack-jawed.

Castiel presses a kiss into her hair affectionately.

"She really likes you, you know."

"She’s a good kid." Dean replies and ducks his head, a slight blush heating his cheeks.

Cas places his palm over Dean’s on his knee and Dean looks up at him.

"Thank you." Castiel says sincerely. His voice is hushed but Dean’s heart is thundering in his ears. They shouldn’t be doing this. Dean should know better. He _does_ know better.

But Cas looks so grateful.

Dean shakes his head minutely. "It’s my job." He counters in an attempt to remind himself that _Cas is just a job_ …

Castiel shakes his head.

"No, this was more than that."

The smile that graces his expression is fucking beautiful – even if it is surrounded by not fully cleaned blood stains.

"I just… I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing for Claire…" he says. Dean’s sure he’s gone red all the way up to the tips of his ears.

"…for me."

Dean thinks this is it.

This is the moment when everything can go to Hell because Cas glances down at his lips and then back up to his eyes again, like he’s asking for permission, and Dean’s got sweaty palms and his breathing is slightly uneven.

Cas’ eyes flutter shut as he leans in but Dean can’t – he wants to see the look on Cas’ face when he’s kissed breathless because that’s what Dean wants to do right now.

Claire’s arm falls limp into her father’s lap and it startles both of them.

"Uh- I should put her to bed." Cas stands and adjusts his grip on her.

"Yeah, yeah, you should. You do that. I’ll um…" Dean takes in the sight of the messy living room that leads into an even messier hallway.

"I’ll start on cleaning up down here."

"Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure I can manage on my own. You should get home… you know, if you want." Cas offers.

Dean stands too and watches as Cas tries to navigate the living room. He almost would’ve let Cas go too if the man hadn’t paused in the doorway and swayed a little too much, one hand pressed to his forehead.

"Woah! Hey, you okay?" Dean rushes to his side, taking Claire from him. The girl seems oblivious, just wraps her arms around Dean’s neck instead.

"Fine. I think I just need an aspirin… or ten."

"Okay, _I’ll_ put her to bed-"

"First bedroom on the right." Cas instructs.

"-and you go get an aspirin. Think you can manage that?" Dean asks concernedly, because Cas is looking paler than he should be.

Cas almost rolls his eyes.

"I’m not an infant. I can manage. It’s just in the kitchen."

Dean watches him walk to the kitchen, making sure there’s no stumble or waver in his step. When he’s gone, Dean hoists the little girl up and carries her carefully up the stairs.

It takes a while to actually get her into her bed because every time he goes to lay her down, she insists on tightening her grip around his neck and he gets dragged down into the bed with her. 

On the fifth try, Dean uses the stuffed grumpy looking cat as a diversion so he can escape her clutches, tucks her in all snug, and makes sure to leave the door open at least half way so they can hear her if something happens.

When he enters the kitchen, there are two steaming plates placed in front of two stools at the island.

"I hope day yesterday’s lasagna is okay." Cas says as he retrieves one bottle of beer and one bottle of water from the fridge. "I haven’t really had a chance to go out."

"You didn’t have to, Cas." Dean says but takes a seat at the island anyway. He doesn’t waste any time, digging in immediately and practically moans around the first forkful.

" _God_ , this is good. Man, I can’t tell you the last time I had a proper home cooked meal." Dean praises. Cas looks at him sceptically.

"My job is fucking nuts." He elaborates. "Mostly, I’ve been living off of- you know those White Castle burgers?"

Castiel nods.

"Yeah, those and milkshakes."

Castiel looks amused. "Perhaps, you should visit more often."

He looks down at his bowl when he speaks again. "Mostly, it’s only ever Claire and I so there’s never any occasion to cook for more."

Dean can sense that this conversation’s heading into dangerous territory. He thinks that Cas suspects it, too, so he’s grateful when Cas changes the subject.

"You said you had something for me yesterday? About Claire?"

Dean swallows around his food before he speaks.

"Yeah, but I kinda dumped everything at my apartment when she called." He says, regret in his voice.

"Oh." Castiel looks down again at his bowl, avoiding Dean’s gaze like he’s ashamed. He’s not even really eating, just playing with his food.

"I’m sorry about today, Dean. I really am."

"Dude, you don’t have to keep apologizing."

"Sorry."

The apology falls off his tongue automatically. Laughter graces the kitchen area when they realize that Castiel just apologized _again_.

It’s nice.

Dean thinks Cas’ laugh is nice. The way his eyes squint up till there’s only slits of blue left, and the way he gets crinkles around his eyes, and the way his nose scrunches up, and the way that his mouth is all teeth and gums.

In the weeks since they’ve met, he doesn’t think Cas’ ever laughed like this with him.

Cas doesn’t stop laughing and a few seconds go past before Dean can’t stop grinning like an idiot when he realizes that _Cas’ got the giggles_. It lasts a few long seconds, one of Cas’ hands goes to his stomach in an attempt to calm himself, and the other swipes at his watering eyes.

"I just- I can’t-" he tries and fails, food abandoned.

Dean’s just staring – admiring the way Cas is just completely losing his shit and laughter inevitably escapes Dean, too. It’s not as bad as Cas, but Dean’s only laughing because Cas is laughing.

Eventually he calms, taking long, deep breaths, still unable to stop smiling.

Cas shakes his head, apology on his lips when Dean reaches out and covers his mouth with his palm.

"Don’t."

Castiel stills.

Dean’s palm is still against his mouth, and all of a sudden, the air draws close around them and Dean’s heart stutters. Cas’ blue eyes flick down to his lips and back up to his eyes again. Then, they glance down at the hand covering his mouth and then questioningly up to Dean again.

Dean withdraws his hand like he’s been burned, and instead, goes to smooth down the hair at the nape of his neck, nervously.

"Sorry." He stands, half empty plate in hand, and goes to place it carefully in the sink, hands trembling only slightly. He’s not facing Cas, he can’t see the expression on the other man’s face – he’s not sure he wants to – but he knows Cas’ gaze tracked his entire movement.

His heart’s racing in his chest, beating adamantly against his ribs. He tugs at his collar as discreetly as he can to relieve the heat burning his cheeks.

Yes, he likes Cas.

Yes, he adores Claire.

He’s pretty sure they both like him back, too.

 _Really_ pretty sure.

But really pretty sure isn’t good enough.

Really pretty sure isn’t enough to build a home out of.

"Don’t apologize." Cas says to his back. It sounds like a plea but Dean doesn’t want to read into it.

He turns slowly, hands gripping the edge of the counter, to face Cas.

They watch each other silently for a moment. He’s not sure what he’s waiting for.

Cas stands, slow and steady, and walks to Dean, stopping directly in front of him. Dean’s already backed against the kitchen counter so there’s nowhere else for him to run.

His gaze tracks over Cas’ face – mostly concerned with the wound on Cas’ head. He reaches out slowly, in enough time for Cas to pull away, and brushes feather light fingertips over the wound. The bleeding’s mostly stopped and there wasn’t any glass in it but it still looks painful and he’s definitely dragging Cas to the hospital tomorrow.

"I’m fine." Cas murmurs, reading his expression.

Dean shakes his head minutely – any movement larger than that would disrupt their proximity.

"That fucking bitch." He breathes into the space between them.

Cas looks almost offended, eyes narrow slightly and a small smirk pulls jokingly at his lips – lips, that Dean notices, are an insane bubblegum pink colour and should really be sharing the same space as his own. He brings his hand down to rest low against the column of Cas’ neck, thumb resting against the bolt of his jaw, and the other man leans into the touch.

"That’s the mother of my child you’re talking about."

Dean scoffs quietly. "Yeah, the kid that she-" _hurt_ goes unspoken. He breaks off abruptly, and swallows his words. Cas’ face falters and he closes his eyes for a brief moment, and exhales – short, sharp and bitter.

"Hey." Dean punctuates with a gentle squeeze of his hand and Cas open his eyes.

"We’re keeping her." He says in reference to Claire, tone fierce and determined. "She’s _not_ going back. I’m gonna make sure."

Castiel just watches him for a moment before a smile graces his features – Dean thinks it suits him. He reaches a hand out to rest a warm hand against Dean’s side. Dean welcomes the pressure, and with it, the way the small touch kicks his heart into hyperdrive. He doesn’t know what he’s doing but his breathing stutters a little. Cas notices, (who wouldn’t at this proximity?) and his smile grows, lips parting slightly.

"What?" Dean just about chokes out.

" _Please_ tell me I can kiss you."

As much as Cas looks ready to jump his bones – he waits for Dean’s consent.

But the answer should be no.

The truthful, honest answer is obviously no because there are rules against fraternizing with clients.

But Dean’s a lawyer.

And in most cultures, that’s synonymous with being a fucking liar.

His eyes trail down to rest on Cas’ lips, and he licks his lips involuntarily. _That_ catches Cas’ gaze. He angles his head only slightly – just for conveniency – and leans in, waits for Cas’ eyes to flutter shut before pressing their lips together.

He’s kissed people before.

Loads of people.

But he doesn’t think there’s anything that even comes close to kissing Cas.

Cas sighs into the kiss, and his lips are soft and warm and there’s enough give as there is press, and Dean thinks he could do this for a damn long time. His other hand comes to rest against the column of Cas’ neck on the other side, thumbs brushing along stubbled jawline. They don’t press for much more, there’s no demand to rush, they slot together perfectly and it feels so fucking _easy_ … like Sunday mornings.

His eyes have closed too by now, and Cas is holding his sides, shirt bunched into fists and shuffling closer to Dean, taking as much as he can get - but Dean’s getting lightheaded and he needs to break away if only to breathe. He refuses to move any farther away than keeping their foreheads pressed together, hot air spilling from parted lips that still catch against each other whenever they move, his thumbs run under Cas’ jaw tenderly. Dean opens his eyes just enough (because he can’t help himself) so he can see the blissed out look on Cas’ face.

Neither of them say a thing - until Cas opens his eyes and Dean thinks he could drown in that blue and not even want a lifejacket.

"Hi." Cas whispers and he sounds all sorts of wrecked. It brings a smile to Dean’s face.

"Hi, yourself."

They pull back enough to not go cross-eyed. Cas looks like he’s about to say something more but they’re cut off by a shriek from upstairs that makes them jump apart.

_DADDY!_

It’s Claire.

Cas is halfway to the foot of the stairs before he turns back to Dean.

"Don’t go anywhere?" he pleads, eyes wide, foot already on the first step.

"I’ll be here."

Cas nods and then he’s gone.

Dean takes his absence to just _breathe_ , chest heaving in gulps of air like it’s running out. He turns to face the kitchen and closes his eyes, runs his hands through his hair and tries to shake the fact that he just _kissed Cas_.

There are rules against this.

He should fucking know better.

Sam would bitchface so hard at him if he knew.

_Need you to take a case… don’t ask._

He texts Sam and pockets his phone just in time for Cas to walk back into the kitchen, Claire attached to his hip. He walks past Dean straight to the freezer and takes out a carton of ice-cream, grabs spoons from a drawer and takes a seat at the island. He pushes away his half eaten plate of lasagna and replaces it with the carton, popping the lid with one hand, as he sits Claire on his lap properly. Her face is tucked into his neck and he murmurs something quietly to her and offers her the spoon. She takes it tiredly – his hand going to steady the carton – and stabs it lazily into the ice-cream trying to scoop some into it while he strokes his other hand up and down her back soothingly.

Cas glances around her head and holds a spoon out to Dean.

"Can Dean share with us, Claire?" he asks, voice low against her ear.  

The little girl looks sideways at Dean confusedly as he takes the spoon, fingers brushing against Cas’, and slides onto the stool next to them. She watches him for a moment, confusion shifting into recognition, and she nods, sliding the carton across the countertop towards him.

"Because he saved you." Claire says simply to her father and Cas does nothing except meet Dean’s gaze past the little blonde haired girl who’s already gone back to digging (literally) into her ice-cream.

"Yeah he did, bug." He confirms, pressing a kiss into her hair affectionately.  

Dean blushes under their comments. His phone rings and he has to excuse himself to answer it, mindful of the clutter still littering the hallway.  

He just about brings the cell to his ear when Sam asks, "Is it Cas?"

"What? No!..." Dean defends, a little too loudly even for his own ears. He grimaces – glancing back into the kitchen to see Cas turn to meet his gaze.

Sam waits.

"Ok, _yes_." Dean resigns, and grips the phone tighter. He steps out of Cas’ eyeline.

"What the hell are you thinking, Dean?!" Sam sounds frustrated.

"I-I don’t know, it just sort of _happened_." It sounds so lame when he says it like that, trying to justify it with an equally lame hand gesture.

" _Dean_."

"I don’t know what you want me to say Sammy. He was bleeding, and there’s this whole thing with his kid, and now they’re in the kitchen eating ice-cream-" he knows he’s rambling. "-but long story short, I need you to come pick up the paperwork tomorrow. I can’t be involved if I’m gonna be… _involved_." He ends with a heavy exhale, awaiting Sam’s response.

It’s silent.

"…Sam?" he asks tentatively, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

Sam clears his throat. "I was gonna ask you to email me the paperwork tonight but somethin’ tells me that that’s not gonna happen." He can hear the smirk in Sam’s voice.

"Shut up." Dean retorts, a shy smile pulling at his own lips.

"Great comeback."

He hears Jess call his brother’s name in the background at the same time that he hears a questioning "Dean?" from behind him. Cas is standing near the foot of the stairs, fingers threaded together nervously. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"Dean, I gotta go. I’ll come over tomorrow." His brother says at the same time as he says, "See ya tomorrow, Sam."

He hangs up and pockets his phone.

"Sam?" Cas asks.

"My brother. He’s a lawyer too." Dean explains, stepping closer. "I’m giving him your case. I can’t be involved."

Cas’ face shifts from confusion to hurt and he starts to leave for the kitchen, before Dean’s reaching out to grab at his arm because this’ll end in a huge misunderstanding and he’ll kick himself if he lets it happen.

"Cas, just _wait_."

The other man stops as Dean comes around to face him, hand still gripping his arm.

"Would you look at me?"

Cas doesn’t. His jaw clenches stubbornly.

"Don’t be like that. I just meant that I can’t be involved if I’m gonna be…" he searches for the right word. "… _involved_."

Castiel looks up at him, brows knitted, confusion deepening. His hand slides down to thread his fingers through Cas’.

"There’s rules. I can’t have my interest’s conflict. If Sam’s your lawyer then I can _be_ with you freely." He explains. "You know… if you st-stilll want…" he adds, hand going to rub at the back of his neck nervously, because Cas might not ev-

His train of thought is cut off because Cas’ lips are on his but this is nothing like their kiss earlier. No – this is full of heat and desperation and _fuck me_. Dean fumbles at first but gets with the program when Cas walks him backwards to press him against the wall that divides the landing and the kitchen – effectively out of Claire’s eyeline. Cas pulls at his shirt, but Dean encircles his wrists firmly and halts him there. He thinks that’s a that Cas elicits but he’s not going to question it because he man presses his hips into Dean’s and he has to make every effort not to moan like a _goddamn whore_.

"Daddy?"

Cas has moved away so fast that Dean thinks that qualifies as whiplash, but Claire’s looking up at Cas rubbing her eye tiredly, and Dean has to turn away slightly to give himself a minute to at least appear decent in front of the kid. He takes a deep breath and smoothes down his shirt as he hears Cas pick up Claire and take her back into the living room, asking, _Yes, sweetie?_ all calm and collected, like he wasn’t ready to fuck Dean against the wall a few seconds ago.

"I’m tired." She yawns when Dean joins them in the living room. She clambers down from her father and lies down on the sofa. Cas pulls the comforter over and she snuggles under it, falling asleep almost immediately. Cas watches her, gaze soft, for a moment, running a gentle hand over the crown of her head twice. Then he sighs – Dean sees the movement of his shoulders – and stands.

"You must be tired too. You should probably head home. I’m just gonna clean up." Cas says, and retrieves a roll of black bin bags.

"I can help if you’d like." Dean replies, going to take one from Cas’ hands.

"No, you’ve done too much already, I can’t-"

"Shut up Cas." He interjects but there’s no malice in his tone, and a smile on his lips.

Castiel returns it and hands him the bag. Dean makes sure to take pictures on his phone first, for _evidence_ obviously, in case Amelia tries anything – and ends up snapping an impromptu, close up one of Cas when he doesn’t move out of the shot.

They clean up rather easily and in record time Dean thinks. Right now he just wants a bed or any flat surface will do.

Dean glances at his watch. "I should probably be gettin’ home."

They walk out into the hallway, shoulders brushing.

"I’ll see you… tomorrow?" Cas asks, voice hopeful.

Dean nods. "Yeah. I’ll bring Sam round, introduce you guys."

"I look forward to it."

They stand there smiling at each other before Cas pulls him in with one hand by the front of his shirt and kisses him. Cas pulls away far quicker than Dean would’ve liked which leaves him chasing it. Cas’ smile shifts into a smirk as he licks his lips and heads towards the front door to open it for Dean.

Dean pauses at the front door and kisses Cas just once more – because now that he’s allowed he doesn’t think he’ll want to stop – before Cas eventually shoves him down the front steps. He watches from the door as Dean climbs into his car and drives off into the darkness.

 

-X-x-X-

 

Four and a half weeks later, in Courtroom 4, Judge Mills (they’d gotten a change at the last minute) bangs the gavel with a smile on her face.

They are granted full custody of Claire with an injunction for Amelia as well as a criminal record.

Cas can hardly contain his happiness and when Claire looks up at Dean with her equally wide smile and asks if they can go for ice-cream he’s never been so happy to reply with a _sure, kiddo_ and an affectionate ruffle to her golden hair.

Just like he does to Sam precisely three seconds later, which is returned with a petulant brushing off and an  _I’m not seven anymore, Dean_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested, my Tumblr is [here](http://prettyboydean.tumblr.com)  
> Drop me a message, tell me what you thought - I'd really appreciate it :)


End file.
